


Yaim'ol

by Keirra



Series: Swtor Prompts and Shorts [7]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, I mean there is a little tiny bit of set up, Mando and Jedi, OC: Noara Starspark - Freeform, PWP, So I wrote smut, The point was shimmer asked me to write smut, and that I guess is a mini baby plot?, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keirra/pseuds/Keirra
Summary: Torian returns home after nearly a month away hunting with his Mandalorian brothers but it doesn't feel like home until Noara is in his arms. Yaim'ol means homecoming in Mando'a.





	Yaim'ol

Noara suppresses the urge to throw the datapad in her hand at the wall after she realizing she has read the same sentence three times already. She knows Torian is supposed to return sometime today and that was distracting her. Subconsciously her mind kept casting out her awareness into the Force to search for his unmistakable aura.

He had left almost a month ago to meet up with Corridan, a friend she had heard a lot about but never met, for a hunt. It was the longest they had been apart since they had met, and with the course their relationship had taken she hadn’t anticipated how much she would miss him. He had become a much larger part of her life than she ever thought a single person could. She missed him being beside her in bed when she woke up, their shared showers and meals, even just the lack of feeling of his presence in the Force made her physically ache with longing. She had even taken to wearing his shirts when she wasn’t needed for anything official just to feel a bit closer to him.

Therefore, she is unsurprisingly anxious to see him again. She’d be waiting for him at the hanger, but she had promised Lana she would try to get through the reports she had been putting off in her melancholy the last few days, and she has no intention of working once he is back.

Noara brushes her wandering thoughts away and reaches out again. She nearly drops her datapad when she feels him on the edge of her awareness. He is just barely close enough to sense so she guesses that his shuttle is still a few minutes from touching down, giving her 10, maybe 15 minutes to try and finish reading this report about their resource status. Feeling too restless to stay in her chair, she stands up next to her desk, datapad in hand, and doubles her efforts to concentrate on the words it displays.

That was how Torian found her when the door to their room slides open with a soft whoosh, shifting her weight from foot to foot and frowning at her datapad. He smiles at the sight of her as he steps into the room. He sets his bag down by the couch, he can unpack later, and starts removing his armor while stealing as many looks at her as he can.

He never wants to leave Noara for that long again, it had been far too much time apart. And he needed a good holo of her. They had been hunting on Hoth, where the comm service was osik and any chance to getting to call her was basically nil. He was sure he had never been happier to see anyone before.

Aside from the frown directed at her datapad she looks good. No visible injuries, which he would be lying if he said he hadn’t worried about. Instead she looks healthy and comfortable, wearing the loose pants she likes to sleep in on cold nights and one of his shirts that hangs down to her thighs. He finishes shedding his armor, setting it almost reverently on the stand Noara had surprised him with a few weeks ago after he had made a comment about wanting somewhere to store it, before approaching her.

She hasn’t turned to look at him, but he can tell she knows he is there. Her shoulders had been tense when he opened the door but now they were relaxed and she isn’t shifting her weight from leg to leg anymore, a nervous tick that he was very familiar with.

Now that his armor was off, and he could hold her properly, he comes up behind her and slips his arms around her waist to pull her back against his chest. She makes a soft pleased sound as she sets the datapad down on the desk and lays her arms over his. He buries his nose in her hair and inhales deeply. She smells just like he remembered, the mixture of the light floral scent of her shampoo, herbal notes of her favorite tea, and another scent that was uniquely Noara. It wasn’t until that moment that he truly felt like he was home, with her in his arms and his favorite scent surrounding him.

“Missed you,” he sighs into her hair. “Busy?”

“Just some reports to read. I missed you too,” she says, leaning farther back into his chest. “How was the hunt?”

He smiles, reaching up to pull her out her hair tie before running his fingers through her loose locks. “Good, it was nice seeing Corridan. He gave me a hard time for not bring you though.”

“Did you tell him I'm a busy girl and he can come to me if he wants to meet so badly?”

Torian laughs softly as he massages her scalp with her fingers, “no but I will.”

Even though she was in his arms, leaning into him and relaxed against his body it isn’t enough. Weeks of long, cold Hoth nights deprived of her presence had left him craving her in every sense of the word. He leans down and presses his lips to her neck, trailing kisses everywhere he can reach, relishing the taste of her skin. He moves his arm around her waist lower, pulling her hips tight against him to feel his growing arousal against her lower back. When his trail of kisses reaches her ear she shivers against him at the sensation and he nips playfully at the soft lobe before whispering into her ear.

“You've got too many clothes on cyar'ika.”

“Really?” She laughs, “that’s a change of tune. You normally nag that I don't wear enough.”

He hums thoughtfully in her ear, “that’s on the battlefield, and you don't. But here, in _our_ bedroom you are far less likely to be shot at.”

“Less likely, but not guaranteed,” she says, and even with her face turned away from him he can hear the smirk in her voice. “So how much clothing do you recommend for here in the bedroom?”

“Would you hit me if I said none?”

She pretends to think about it for a moment, tapping a finger against her lips, “yes.”

“One then.”

“Oh really?”

“Lek,” he answers, nodding against her neck where he is still pressing soft open-mouthed kisses against her pulse.

“Oh well in that case,” she says, turning in his arms to face him before hooking her fingers in the waistband of her pants and pushing them down to pool around her feet. “There, one.”

Noara smiles up at Torian as it took a moment for him to process what she means, and then giggles as comprehension dawned on him. He reaches down to the hem of her borrowed shirt, hanging off her almost like a short dress and slips his hand under the fabric to test his theory. When his fingers met with only bare flesh he makes a small noise of approval - under _his_ shirt she is completely naked, and he wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything sexier.

“That is so much better,” he sighs, running his hands across the back of her legs before hooking them under her thighs and lifting her up onto the desk behind her.

She makes a soft surprised sound before his lips crash into her. He is standing between her legs, pressing himself against her-the need to feel her pressed against him was the only thought in his head. He needs to feel her lips against his, her arms around his neck, her skin under his hands. He runs a hand up her back to her hair, fisting his hand in the loose dark lock to pull her head back and expose her throat. She moans, running her hands across as much of his back and shoulders that she can reach as he kisses and sucks at her neck, leaving red marks on her pale skin behind him.

“Gar cuyir mesh'la,” he says reverently against her throat.

“Gar mirdir bid?” she asks, making his breath catch in his throat. She didn’t say anything racy, simply asked if he really found her beautiful, but her words send a thrill of excitement through him. When she spoke Mando'a in these moments, her voice heavy with arousal, it always had a strong effect on him.

He sinks to his knees in front of her, pleased to see he has judged the height of the desk correctly as the move put him directly between her thighs. His shirt was long enough that it is pooling across her lap, offering her a negligible amount of modesty. He looks up and meets her gaze as he pulls her forward, so her pelvis is at the very edge of the table before sliding his hand up her torso, shifting the fabric slowly to bare her naked sex.

Yes, one article of clothing is the perfect amount, he thinks to himself before leaning forward to run his tongue across the length of her clit to taste her. She jerks under his mouth at the contact and he moves a hand to her hip to hold her in place as he starts to lap and suck at her clit in earnest.

“Oh Torian,” she sighs, leaning back against the computer terminal on the desk behind her and reaching down to bury her hand in his hair.

Encouraged by her response, his free hand joins his mouth between her legs. His finger slides easily inside her and she cries out, tightening her hand in his hair and he can feel her thighs trembling on either side of his face. He twists his finger to brush that spot he knows drives her wild and she bucks against his face and fingers, making the desk creak in protest despite the hand pinning her hip down.

Noara pulls his head up with the hand threaded into his hair and he let her clit, which he has been sucking thoroughly, slip out of his mouth with a soft pop. He looks up at her curiously, pressing a second finger inside her, eliciting another gasp of pleasure from her while taking in her disheveled appearance.

She was normally the picture of composure, make up perfectly applied, clothing clean and pressed unless she had been fighting, and hair pulled up into a perfectly centered ponytail. Completely opposite to the way she is now, her lip color smeared, hair loose and tangled around her face, trembling above him wearing nothing but an old loose shirt of his. He loves seeing her like this, seeing her let go of her firmly held control and give herself over to him.

Especially since he was the only one to ever see her like this.

He curls his fingers again, drawing another cry from her lips, before smiling smugly up at her.

“Want me to stop cyar'ika?”

“No, no I don't,” she shook her head, but when he tries to move his mouth back to her clit she holds him firmly away. He groans at her and she laughed softly, “Torian unless you want to explain to Lana why we need a new desk in here, I suggest we move.”

For a moment he considers taking her there, sprawled out across her desk and seeing just how much it can take before breaking. However, trying to explain _that_ requisition request to the perpetually serious Sith does not appeal to him at all.

“Gar staabi,” he says, removing his hand and standing. He grabs the borrowed shirt, pulling it over her head. He drops it on the floor before cupping her face in his hands and kissing her. He presses his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself on his mouth as she pulls as his shirt.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” she says against his mouth, throwing his earlier words back at him.

He laughs, “right.”

He quickly strips, dropping them among her scattered clothing.

Her hands are on him as soon as his skin is bare, running along the definition of his muscles before she grabs his sides and pulls him close enough to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Take me to bed cyare, please?” She asks, looking up at him and biting her lip before adding, “ni linibar gar Torian.”

He answers by pulling her off the terminal, hands cupping her ass, and carrying her across the room to the bed. He kneels on the edge of the bed before gently laying her down beneath him. She keeps her legs around his hips, pressing herself against his erection and making an impatient noise.

“Missed me that much?” He asks with a smile, even as he positions himself at her entrance.

She nods and tries to tilt her hips to encourage him to enter her but he pulls away. Noara groans, dropping her head down onto the bed.

“Are you really teasing me after a month apart?”

“Tell me what you want Noara,” he says firmly, leaning down to press a kiss to her breast. “What do you need?” 

Noara shivers under him. “I need _you_ ,” she says desperately, “I need you inside me. Gedet'ye.” 

Normally Torian likes to take his time with Noara, teasing and playing both to show her how he feels about her and to draw out her pleasure as much as possible, but his patience for that is shot after so much time. Not when she asks so directly for what she wants, something he sometimes has to coax out of her, and is playing on his own weakness for hearing her say please in Mando’a. That coupled with her legs around his hips and her hands around his shoulders pulling him down on top of her, desperate to feel his skin against her own ensures that he doesn’t have it in him to draw this out much longer.

He leans on an elbow next to her head and kisses her deeply as his other hand reaches between them to make sure he is lined up with her entrance properly. He presses his forehead against hers, meets her own pleasure glazed eyes with his own and smiles down at her.

“I love you cyar'ika.”

She returns his smile, moving her hands to cup his face and trace the scars on his cheeks with her thumbs. “I love you too Torian.”

Holding her gaze he pushes his hips forward, sliding easily into her core. He groans at the sensation of her, warm, wet and pressing tightly around him. He closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath and savoring the sensation because he knows he isn’t going to last long. Beneath him Noara rocks her hips against his, encouraging him to move.

He opens his eyes to smile down at her before he slowly rolls his hips against hers. He knows he won’t last as long he might normally, but damned if he isn’t going to try.

Noara moans his name in pleasure at the sensation, and the sound chips at his wavering control as she moves her hips to meet his slowly accelerating thrusts. She runs her hands across his back, nails scratching across his shoulder blades before she buries then in his hair and pulls just hard enough to make him gasps.

“Torian, are you going fuck me like you mean it, or do I need to take over?” she demands, and he is tempted to let her. The idea of her pushing him down on the bed, straddling him and bouncing up and down on his cock is very enticing.

Instead he growls, the animalistic sound coming from deep in his chest and snaps his hips forward sharply. She cries out, clutching at his back as he sets a rougher, faster rhythm.

It has been so long, for both of them, that they both can feel their release building already. Noara feels like her entire body was on fire, the heated desire stoked with each hard stroke on him inside her, and it is all she can do just to hold on to him.

Knowing he won’t last much longer, Torian reaches between them to tease her sensitive clit with his fingers. Her orgasm hits her hard, drawing a loud cry of her lips as her whole body tenses beneath him the way she clenches around him pulls him over the edge with her. He stills inside her, trembling with the force of his release and shuddering every time she tightens around him in the aftershocks of her pleasure.

He leans over her, elbows braced on either side of her face, as he catches his breath before moving to lie next to her on the bed. He pulls her to his chest, arms tight around her and smiles when she hums contentedly.

It’s good to be home.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a response to a prompt of: "You are wearing too many clothes."
> 
> Mando'a translations in order of appearance:
> 
> Osik: shit  
> Cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart  
> Lek: yeah  
> Gar cuyir mesh'la: you are beautiful  
> Gar mirdir bid?: you think so?  
> Gar staabi - your right  
> Cyare: beloved  
> Ni linibar gar: I need you  
> Gedet'ye: Please


End file.
